


School Nemeses 5

by magog_83



Series: School Nemeses [5]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-04-04
Updated: 2011-04-04
Packaged: 2017-10-17 14:36:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,232
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/177894
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/magog_83/pseuds/magog_83
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Merlin and Arthur are archenemies.  Optimistic young teacher Miss Slater thinks she can do something about that. Modern school!au.  Third detention!</p>
            </blockquote>





	School Nemeses 5

**Author's Note:**

> Beta'd by Vensre. WIP.

Considering the very wet state of Arthur on the previous Thursday afternoon, Miss Slater was surprised to find that it was Merlin who had developed a cold, come Monday. For the second time running he was there, waiting, before Arthur arrived – which would probably be some kind of record if Arthur hadn’t been away all day at a football tournament with the school team. When Miss Slater reached the small courtyard she found Merlin sitting on the wall, kicking his legs against the brick, a slightly damp looking hankie clutched in one hand.

“No Arthur yet I see,” she said by way of greeting.

“No, he’s probably still doing a victory lap of the county.” Merlin croaked, then cleared his throat.

“How do you know they’ve won?” Miss Slater replied, curious, as she fished around in her bag for a clean tissue and passed it across.

Merlin slid off the wall and swung his bag over his shoulder, dropping the old tissue in the bin and taking the new one with a smile of thanks before he replied. “They always win.” Miss Slater raised her eyebrows. “Well,” Merlin amended, “almost always – Arthur’s father doesn’t like it if they don’t.”

Before she could ask him exactly what he meant by that, she heard a door slam and they both turned to look. Arthur was striding across the car park as the school bus pulled away again, still in his football kit and doing his best to hurry, despite being waylayed several times. Miss Slater couldn’t help but notice that it was mainly girls doing the waylaying, but after only a few moments Arthur managed to extricate himself from some particularly enthusiastic year tens and was finally jogging up the pathway towards them, looking enormously pleased with himself and a veritable picture of health compared to Merlin.

“Should I congratulate you?” Miss Slater said, when he was close enough to hear.

Arthur grinned as he came to a halt, swinging his kit bag in his hand. “Four-nil – and we’re through to the semi-finals.” He glanced at Merlin as he finished, as if expecting some kind of reaction, but Merlin just ignored him.

“Well done,” said Miss Slater, smiling, “Did you score?”

Merlin snorted, an action which unfortunately turned into a brief coughing fit. Arthur looked him up and down, rather disparagingly, and said “What the hell’s wrong with you, anyway?”

Merlin gave him a baleful look. “What does it look like? I’m ill.”

Arthur smirked. “Well we’ve all known that for years. I meant what specifically?”

“God, you really are a prat.”

“Honestly, I keep telling you you can just call me Arthur.”

“Boys!” said Miss Slater warningly, before the afternoon could descend into another argument before they’d even made it inside the building.

Arthur threw Merlin a triumphant look, and went to sweep past him. Merlin merely glared and then suddenly sneezed all over Arthur’s football jersey.

“You little—” Arthur lunged for Merlin, who danced out of reach and then ran up the steps and through the door Miss Slater had barely had chance to open, Arthur in pursuit.

“Merlin! Arthur, don’t you dare—” She grabbed her plastic crate and hurried after them. By the time she got to the hallway it was to find Arthur practically sitting on the other boy, one arm bent behind his back to hold him still as he rubbed the damp arm of his jersey in Merlin’s hair and Merlin squirmed, trying to get free.

“Arthur!” Miss Slater barked. “What do you think you are doing?”

Arthur jumped at the sound of her voice and let go immediately, scrambling to his feet and away from Merlin, breathing hard and looking somewhat flushed. Miss Slater looked from one to the other, waiting as Merlin staggered upright, equally red-faced, with another glare at Arthur and a low mutter of “Ass.”

“I’m sure you remember our conversation Arthur,” Miss Slater said in a steely tone, “about detentions and how unfortunate it would be if they were to clash with football practice?”

Arthur looked subdued. “Yes, miss.”

“Good,” said Miss Slater, “because don’t think I wouldn’t do it.” She looked at them both, and then carried on into the library, waiting at the door for them to pass by – which they did, Arthur leaving a good three feet of space between him and Merlin as if afraid of further sneezing incidents.

Once inside, Merlin dragged his chair back with unnecessary force and flopped down at the table whilst Arthur stomped over to the bookshelves and began yanking down books like each volume had personally offended him. Miss Slater went into the small kitchen and switched on the kettle, enjoying at least thirty seconds of wonderful silence before,

“You broke my pen!”

She stuck her head out of the doorway to see Merlin brandishing half a blue biro at Arthur.

“No I did not.”

“Yes you did! When you sat on me, you great oaf. Look at it!”

“Well you shouldn’t have sneezed on me, it’s your own fault.”

“I’ll bear that in mind when I’m deflating your football with my compass.”

“If you dare go anywhere near—”

Miss Slater cleared her throat very pointedly from the kitchen doorway, arms folded, and they both shut up. Merlin managed another impressive sneeze before he settled for scowling down at the table top and the remains of his pen, coughing a little and looking really very sorry for himself. Miss Slater began unloading the tea bags and rinsing out the mugs, noticing as she did so that Arthur was still watching Merlin from the shadow of the tall bookcase, his expression unreadable as Merlin tried, unsuccessfully, to write with his stump of a pen, muttering to himself angrily before he broke off to cough again. Sighing, Miss Slater reached over into her bag on the worktop and found an old fountain pen – not ideal perhaps but it would just have to do. But before she could even leave the kitchen to offer it to Merlin she looked out to see Arthur digging about in his kit bag before he strode over to the table and thrust a pen in front of Merlin’s face with a martyred expression.

“What’s that?” said Merlin, jerking back.

Arthur glared at Merlin and then at the pen. “It’s a pen, idiot. Just use it. Or whatever.”

Merlin looked at him suspiciously. “What’s wrong with it?”

“There’s nothing wrong with it!” Arthur had gone red again. “You’re the one worrying about your stupid list.”

“Alright then, where’s it been?”

“Where’s it— In my kit bag! It’s just a pen for god’s sake.”

Merlin snorted, “Says you.”

“Look, just take the bloody pen!” Arthur was almost, but not quite, yelling.

“Fine!” said Merlin, snatching it out of his hand.

“You’re welcome!” snapped Arthur, marching back to his bookshelves and nearly tripping over a stray pile of newspapers on the way.

At the table, Merlin made a point of wiping the pen very thoroughly on his t-shirt before he continued with his list, casting the occasional suspicious look at Arthur who appeared to be completely engrossed in his job once more except for the slight red flush to the back of his neck as he worked.

Miss Slater, who by this point was prepared to take what she could get, just beamed at them both approvingly and said “Tea, anyone?”

 

The End


End file.
